de of the trench, dislodging the sandbags;
but, covering the terrified mob with his revolver, he stalked boldly
forward, calling to them to surrender.

They were big fellows, and they were Prussians; but their unexpected
reception had demoralised them, and their hands went up in the air with
a shout of "Mercy, Kamerad!"

There must have been twenty at least that had survived the explosions.
How many he had killed he never knew; but he realised that he must carry
matters with a very high hand, and give them no time to think.

"Come on, then--you are my prisoners," he said in German. "File along
the trench; my men will escort you to the rear." And, stepping back a
few paces to the angle of the bay, he stood aside to let them go by.

There was terror in their faces, and the sight of the revolver held
threateningly in the officer's hand sent them past at a shambling trot.

Dennis had counted seventeen, and there were still four more to pass
him, when, from the head of the drove, there came a loud laugh, and a
guttural voice shouted back: "Sergeant, the Englishman is alone!"

Dennis saw the speaker jump on to the side of the parados with his hand
to his mouth, and he raised his revolver; but the shot was never fired,
for the butt of a rifle descended on his trench helmet from behind, and
Dennis dropped with a groan.

When he opened his eyes he was lying on his back and it was dark. The
action of turning his head caused a terrible spasm of pain, and made him
lie quite still again for some moments.

Low cries and a distressing moaning mingled with a voice that spoke in
German; and, opening his eyes again, he saw by the light of a lantern
three figures bending over a prostrate man, who had been stripped to the
shirt. His tunic lay on the ground, so close to Dennis that he could
have reached out and touched it, and one of the figures was just rising
from his knee.

"You have wasted my time for nothing," he was saying. "The man is dead
as a herring. Himmel! That makes eighty-seven I have examined to-night,
and not one of them will see the Fatherland again."

He picked up his case of instruments, and, followed by two hospital
orderlies, passed by Dennis and out through a doorway.

"Great Scott!" murmured the lad, "I must be a prisoner in a German
dressing-station. What's happened?"

He had to piece it all together, until he reached the point in the day's
happenings when the Prussians filed past him in the empty trench